


You Wanna Borrow It?

by secondaryfrogpad



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, choirboys au to be specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondaryfrogpad/pseuds/secondaryfrogpad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas lends Newt his jacket and forgets to get it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Wanna Borrow It?

“Up the scale in thirds, boys! Do, Mi, Re, Fa…”

Thomas checked his posture. Feet shoulder-width, sternum lifted, palette up, diaphragm breaths. His eyes were trained solidly on the solfege scale on the other side of the room. He knew it, he’d known it for six years now, but it was a little hard to keep track without a reference when you’re skipping.

“Nice job, boys, now let’s hear some ‘zing-ah’,” his choir teacher directed. Her fingers flew over the piano flawlessly, up and back down again, then a half-step up to repeat. Choir was Thomas’s favorite class of the day. He loved to sing. At his middle school, it hadn’t been very challenging, because choir was seen as ‘gay’ and ‘sissy’, so most boys who were in it were sixth graders who hadn’t learned that yet, or in desperate need of a fine arts credit. This resulted in the choir consisting of mostly tone-deaf, or very poorly trained voices that, admittedly, cracked and sometimes were a bit too confident in their falsetto. But he’d been singing in high school for three years now. And he adored it.

“That’s an E! Very nice, boys. Get out Adoramus Te.”

Thomas stooped to pick up the binder he’d rested on the risers for stretches and warm-up, taking off his hoodie on the way. The fine arts building was always chilly, but once he got to singing it was like a fireplace.

“Are you _hot_?” the boy next to him asked incredulously. Newt was giving him a concerned look, furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms. Newt was a tenor and Thomas a baritone, but they were both sat on the very edge of their part seating, so they stood next to each other. Thomas shrugged.

“Yeah, I always get hot once we start up,” he said, pulling out the two-verse song from the left pocket of his binder.

“Oh my god, how? It’s bloody freezing in here, I am so cold,” Newt said, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to emphasize.

Thomas stopped in the middle of resting his hoodie on the bars that lined the back row of risers. He turned slightly toward Newt and held out his jacket toward him. “You wanna borrow it? It might be a little big, but. Y’know.”

Newt stared at him for a second before grabbing it quickly and rushing to shrug it on. “Thank you so much. I forgot my jacket on the coat rack this morning; I was running a bit late,” he admitted a little sheepishly.

“No problem,” Thomas said, smiling. Newt wasn’t that much smaller than him, but enough so the hoodie draped just that much more loosely over his frame. Newt looked really good in his jacket. Thomas cheeks flushed pink at the thought, and then once again once he felt his face burning.

“Side conversations need to stop, let’s get going,” his instructor commented.

They all turned toward the music and began to chant, “Do, Ti, Do, Re…”

* * *

 

Thomas had just walked into his Statistics class when he realized he had never reclaimed his jacket.

“Oops,” he muttered to himself as he sat down. His friend Minho turned around to face Thomas.

“What’d you do this time?” Minho asked, grinning. The two of them had known each other for quite a long time, before they could even conceptualize the word “school.”

Thomas sighed. “Left my jacket with Newt on accident.”

Minho frowned. “Why would Newt have your jacket?”

“He was cold?” Thomas said, almost questioning, looking up from last night’s homework at Minho’s almost judgemental tone. “Why?”

Minho paused a second before shaking his head. “Nothing! S’fine. Just didn’t know you and Newt were that close.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and looked up again. “It’s not that big of a deal. He was cold. I was not. I offered. I forgot.”

“You should be a poet, y’know.”

“Shut up, Minho. Anyway. I’m sure he’ll bring it back to me tomorrow. We have Physics together.”

The bell rang just then, breaking up their conversation. It wasn’t that big of a deal, right? Friends loaned clothes all the time. At least, usually they do. Minho may have been not-so-subtly hinting at the fact that Thomas hated other people borrowing clothes from him. Albeit, that may be specific to Minho, considering the one time Thomas loaned him a favorite shirt of his he never got it back, but nevertheless. Thomas focused on his math rather than thoughts of Newt.

* * *

 

“Hey, Thomas.”

Newt’s voice apparated from behind suddenly. Thomas spun around in his chair to see him face-to-face. A pale arm offered Thomas’s hoodie, which he grabbed and set on his desk. Newt said, “I see you’ve got a different jacket on today.”

Thomas looked down at his sweatshirt. It was downy and warm, but not as soft or emotionally comforting as the jacket that had been extended toward him. Thomas grinned. “Well, you see, a terrible event happened. I had to think quickly.”

“Oh?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “What tragic event was this?”

“Well,” Thomas began, “yesterday, an awful misfortune befell me. Somebody stole my jacket!”

Newt cracked a smile. “Is that so? An odd thing to steal. Is that all they took?”

“They might also have taken a bit of my heart.”

Newt froze, caught in the middle of attempting to distinguish whether or not Thomas was joking. Thomas was totally freaking out inside. Why did he say that? It had been pretentious and silly, like the rest of their conversation, but that was a little weird, even for stupidly playful discussion.

“You know, if you wanted to ask me out, you literally could have just done that.” Thomas looked up to see a mildly flustered Newt, whose cheeks were dusted pink and whose eyes would only glance at Thomas. Thomas smiled shyly down at his hands.

“Well, then, Newt, would you like to grab a coffee after school?”

Newt’s ears were cherry red, hands buried nervously in the pockets of his peacoat. “Um, yeah. I’d like that.”

“Cool. Do you drive?” Thomas asked.

Newt shook his head. “No. I can, but I don’t have a car.”

“Alright. I have one. Can you meet me by the archway end of the courtyard? There’s a coffee shop just down the street and they make a chai latte that will have your soul transcending earth, honestly.”

Newt’s eyes were smiling brightly. “That sounds great. Um. I’ll see you later?”

“I hope so,” Thomas answered jokingly.

Newt nodded, ducking his head bashfully before heading toward his seat on the opposite side of the room. Thomas let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding and smiled uncontrollably, covering his face with his hands. That conversation had taken an unexpectedly pleasant turn. Thomas’s phone beeped.

**From: Minho**

**Yo, you get ur hoodie back from Newt??**

Thomas typed back:

**To: Minho**

**The hoodie + something else**

About five seconds passed before he received another text:

**From: Minho**

**??? “something else” being???**

**To: Minho**

**A coffee after school.**

Thomas laughed quietly to himself, setting his phone to silent and letting it sit an inner pocket of his backpack. Minho was going to kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> based on a true story! this actually happened to me, but only up to the first break, haha. but i thought it was cute and it inspired me to write for the first time in like. two years, so. it was fun :) i'm a little iffy on the ending, and i would love some feedback, so please leave a comment/constructive criticism as it's been a while since i've written!! thank you for reading ^u^


End file.
